A Woman Like You
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Back when they were just starting out, she asked him if he'd have more fun as a bachelor. Shannon/Gibbs.


_A/N: Yet again listening to country music on the way to work, spent the day at work vaguely waiting tables and intently mentally writing this one-shot. Not Jibbs, though, because sometimes I like to take a break-and snuggle the softer side of Gibbs._

_Shannon/Gibbs; circa 1982._

_"...if I was a single man, alone and out there on the loose, I'd be lookin' for a woman like you." -Lee Brice, A Woman Like You_

* * *

Gibbs jumped at the sudden sound of a _crash_ in the kitchen.

Half asleep and groggy, he rolled over on the sofa, blinking blearily at the droning, monotonous late night news that flickered on the television. He grunted and reached up to rub his forehead, his eyes heavy, and his muscles sore. The day had been so long; he looked at the clock and couldn't believe it wasn't tomorrow yet.

He heard a softer noise from the kitchen, and then the room darkened, indicating the light had flicked off, and he was left with only the glow of the TV, which meant he had to squint to see when his wife walked blithely into the room.

Her heard her sigh, a tired but pretty, content sigh, and she bent at the waist and smacked her hand gently against his thighs, silently instructing him to move them so she could take a place on the couch. He obeyed, and she collapsed gracefully and lazily, leaning back and looking at him, her fingers playing in the slightly frizzed strands of hair that framed her face.

She gave him a wry, apologetic smile.

"Sorry I woke you," she said sincerely. "My hands were still soapy, and I dropped that frying pan."

Gibbs laughed, the sound scratchy and gruff and laced with sleepiness. He reached over and grabbed her hand, turning it over. He brought it spontaneously to his lips and kissed her wrist wordlessly.

"Klutz," he muttered affectionately into her smooth skin.

Shannon smiled, her nose wrinkling just slightly—two little wrinkles near her brow that was a part of her signature smile. He smiled back and slumped against the back of the couch, yawning. He'd been on base since five a.m., and then he'd been fixing the engine on Shannon's car for hours after that, with only a break for dinner.

She had also needed him to help her move furniture, and fix a hole in the roof in what they hoped would be a nursery someday—this house was a fixer-upper, but it was theirs.

She had been cooking and gardening and helping him where she could, and he could see his own exhaustion reflected in her eyes, though there it was more relaxed, it was fluffy and delicate whereas he was just weary and sore. She twisted her hand in his, squeezed his hand, and then pulled her wrist away, pursing her lips. She tilted her head at him, her face free of make-up, lightly freckled, eyes blue and hair red, a young and beautiful twenty-three; there was a mischievous glint in her pupils.

Hard to believe they'd only been married three months, when this felt like some storybook happily-forever-after.

"Jethro," she laughed suddenly, and it surprised him a little, because she usually called him Gibbs—just Gibbs. "Honey, what would you do if you'd never met me?"

He laughed, lifting his eyes to the ceiling and shaking his head. He gave her a sudden serious look and pretended to think about it, and then he put his hands behind his head and shrugged as if it meant nothing.

"Be stationed in Cuba," he said in a husky voice, "surrounded by brunette _senoritas_," he drawled, looking at her wryly. He lifted his brows suggestively. "Have more time to build my boat."

She laughed, a musical sound, and kicked him lightly with her small foot, glaring at him playfully.

"You spend _plenty_ of time on that boat," she said, pointing at him in playful accusation.

He put his tongue in his cheek and moved his shoulders as if flexing his muscles.

"Figure I'd probably be wonderin' why the hell I didn't have a woman like you," he said smugly.

Shannon punched him lightly, rolling her eyes. She stood and bent over him, arching her brow skeptically and puckering her lips for a kiss—which she pressed against the corner of his mouth.

"You're full of it, you kiss ass," she said smoothly, crinkling her nose again. "I'm going to bed."

But he grabbed her hand and tugged her back down, putting his arms around her, an indignant, arrogant, and sincere look on his face and flickering in his cobalt Marine eyes.

"'M serious, Shannon, you asked," he retorted defensively, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head and grinned at her roguishly. "You think I _want_ to be out there tryin' to convince some girl to like me?" he asked. He grabbed her hand and his rough palms closed over the diamond on her left ring finger; he pulled her head closer to his and lifted his brows. "I like this rock where it is," he growled quietly.

His simple gold wedding band slicked subtly against hers, touched her cold skin, and she smiled, tilting her head a little. She arched one eyebrow, her mouth soft, her smile soft, and she giggled almost nervously.

She kissed him.

"I've heard all your lines, Gibbs," she mumbled lightly. "You're saying if you'd never met me, you'd spend your bachelor years lookin' for some woman to tie you down?"

He closed his eyes and reached up to touch her neck with both hands, leaning in close and breathing in her perfume. He let his lips brush her neck, his mind wandering to their wedding and their honeymoon and vaguely into their future. He shook his head, swallowing an ache of desire.

"Not _some_ woman, Shannon," he muttered roughly, doing his best to sound macho and manly. "You."

It was a blunt truth. He couldn't fathom being married to any woman but Shannon—he couldn't understand the idea of loving any woman but Shannon. He was damn proud the band on her finger meant she was irrevocably his, and he wouldn't trade a single day of this for a hundred years the other way.

* * *

_"I'd take a gold band on my hand over bein' a single man, 'cause honestly I don't know what I'd do if I'd never met a woman like you." - Lee Brice, A Woman Like You_

_-Alexandra _


End file.
